


The Presence of Love

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, Established Relationship, Futurefic, M/M, episode-related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-05-23
Updated: 2003-05-23
Packaged: 2017-11-01 10:18:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/355511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And happiness follows.  (Sequel to "The Absence of Empathy")</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Presence of Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is the meant as the sequel to my previous Clex story "The Absence of Empathy" and while it is not absolutely necessary to read that story before this one, it is definitely suggested. 

## The Presence of Love

by Lexalot

<http://www.livejournal.com/users/lexalot>

* * *

The Presence of Love  
By: Lexalot 

Summary: And happiness follows. 

Rating: PG-13 

Disclaimer: On paper, they belong to WB and DC; Through the ages, they have belonged to the fans! 

Pairing: Clark/Lex 

Inspiration and Reference: Original idea from Part I, entitled "The Absence of Empathy" inspired by the Smallville episode, "Accelerate" and further more here from the episodes "Hourglass" and "Jitters" and very minor influence from "Exodus", and I must admit to some slight Matrix influence too :) 

* * *

The dream always starts the same. 

He's in the middle of Cassandra's vision--he has no idea how he knows this is Cassandra's vision of Lex's future, but when the dream happens, he is an invisible by-stander and he accepts this omniscience without question. Lex is in the oval office at first, and then all too quickly he's standing in a field of ashes, gray storm clouds gathering overhead, and the sky begins to rain blood as Lex welcomes it with open arms. 

The first time he had the dream, he felt something calling to him as Lex bathed in the crimson downpour--it was an intangible presence, vague and distant and wholly mysterious. Then, he awoke. The next time he had the dream a few months later, he felt the presence slightly stronger than before, like it was solidifying, taking shape in an identifiable form, and that was when he woke up again. Each time the dream repeated, the presence got closer, like it was coming to him, and he felt it approaching more acutely with every revisit to that nightmarish landscape. The last time, he was certain it had been standing right behind him, reaching out for him, and just the same, he was beyond all doubt that he had felt fingers touch his shoulder, but then he was jarred awake, as though the connection that fed the recurring dream had been lost, and with it severed and broken, it merely came to an abrupt end. That had been six months ago. 

This night, he was facing Lex as he was being drenched in the red droplets that fell from the heavens--that was when it happened. A hand that had been reaching out to him came to rest upon his shoulder with a radiant warmth about it, and he spun around to see Lex standing there--this Lex the real one, and on his side of this valley, there was no scarlet shower of carnage and large yellow sunflowers covered the ground. Before any response could be had by the beautiful young man he confronted, Lex spoke one word with dreadful urgency, "Clark!" 

And consciousness ripped him from the dreamworld. 

* * *

The building was crumbling around them, and with his senses barely sustaining, Clark squirmed back against the wall, the red, blue and yellow of his still fairly new costume awash with overpowering neon green. Lex--the Lex he had been trying to stop for five years, the Lex who was an imposter reigning ruthlessly in his beloved's stead, the Lex whom Lionel had cloned to callously replace his son with this sinister copy--that Lex took another step forward, the Kryptonite ring glowing as if Clark's proximity lit it with chemical reaction. The refined meteor stone this Lex wore on his finger was the same one that had been attached to the necklace the night that this Lex had been put into play when he had immediately made an abuse of Clark's weakness. 

This was the Lex the rest of the world accepted as the real Lex. The press proclaimed that he was a corporate mogul while they simultaneously made wild accusations of his secret criminal genius that were not so wild, and to Clark, the insidious masterminding was not so secret. Lionel had been very pleased with the results of his plan, because the world adopted this Lex as he peddled answers in his own best interests while winning a good majority of the public over, so much so that he had confirmed rumors that he intended to run in the Presidential Election after his thirty-fifth birthday. What Lionel may not have foreseen was the self-serving amorality that drove his creation, because the first time Lionel got in his way to steer him in the direction he wanted him to go, the fraudulent Lex turned on Lionel and killed him. In the past, when Clark's dearest Lex had been tempted by lure of eliminating his father from the troublesome equation, he had resisted that darkness in him successfully, but this Lex did not hesitate for a second, and fabricated an accidental death for his first casualty of many. This Lex knew nothing of loyalty, nothing of family, nothing of conscience, and much to Clark's confirmed dismay, nothing of the real Lex or his whereabouts. 

Time was wearing thin. If Lionel had been the only one who knew what happened to the real Lex, then the knowledge had been lost forever with his demise, and this meant that if Clark's Lex was still alive, there was too great a possibility that he was either dying or already dead. Clark could not give up until he knew for sure, though, since even the most remote chance provided him with the hope and courage to continue his exhaustive search. Clark's faith compelled him, but he realized that the likelihood of being reunited with his Lex was less than favorable, yet he had to at least know what had happened to his beloved. He had to find out the truth, whether it led him to a survivor or to a grave. 

He was so close--all that had been accomplished and discovered in the past five years had brought him here to this hidden location, another covert base of operations for the manufacture of LexCorp's technologically sophisticated weaponry, among other things. The LexWing had been born of this Evil Lex's mind and built right here in this first underground headquarters that Lionel had constructed--Clark had come to destroy the prototype plane, and to tear the facility apart, both to cripple it from arms production and scour it for missing pieces of the puzzle. The walls here were lined with lead the way every LexCorp factory was designed these days, specifically engineered to hinder Clark's ability to spy on internal affairs. 

Clark had been so determined that this would be the place and this would be the time, because he had only recently learned that this was where Lionel moved his Level Three experiments once it was no longer safe to conduct them at the plant in Smallville. However, when he arrived and infiltrated as Superman, the tides quickly turned on him as the entire endeavor went horribly awry, and now everything was preparing to self-destruct, the staff was evacuating, and the cloned Lex had him cornered with the LexWing primed and ready to go hovering in the hanger behind them. 

"It's a pity that this is how it ends. It didn't have to be this way, Clark." He took a moment to regard all the chaos ensuing, and noticed his window of opportunity to escape with his own life in tact was closing, but he wanted to be sure that this disaster took his loathed enemy with it. After easing the Kryptonite ring from his finger, he tossed it at Clark's feet, then shot Clark a malicious smirk. "You can have that. Think of it as a parting gift. There's plenty more where it came from anyway, and besides, pretty soon, I won't need it anymore." 

Clark shrunk and doubled over on the floor as his adversary dashed off in cheerful and victorious spirits to board the LexWing. All Clark could do was watch through squinting eyes as the aerodynamic craft retracted its ramp and started forward out the gaping bay door with a rumbling force that shook the unstable structure that much worse. As the plane exited, an explosion rocked the compound from below and in an instant blur, the integrity surrendered to the quake that racked it, and the surface level of the hanger collapsed into the deep hollow level beneath it. The cave-in brought Clark crashing into a space that was exactly like the Level Three that had been concealed and abandoned at the plant in Smallville, and promptly, he regained his strength and control. The Kryptonite ring had been buried under a layer of lead and concrete debris, freeing him from its debilitating effects. 

Tremors forewarned of the imminent danger, but Clark remembered his purpose in coming here--if all here was lost, his beloved might be lost therein too. There were quite a few doors surrounding him, and down here, nothing was secured by a lead barrier, so he scanned each room and hall on this subterranean level only to find nothing and no one. Despair began to creep into his heart as he was convinced that he was close, closer than he had ever been, and as close as he might never be again--something in him felt a distinct presence that told him this was it. Frustration mingled with the flooding overwhelm of desolation as he was bewildered by the circumstances and the impasse he had reached. 

Then, his eyes fell to the ground in defeat, and a slight disparity in the consistency of the cement caught his attention, and his eyes widened in wonder. Clark's vision switched to X-ray swiftly, and sealed beneath this grand basement level was a small chamber. The outline of a horizontal metal cylinder lay at the center of the room, and a skeletal figure lay motionless on the floor not too far from it. A rapid assessment revealed no way in or down there, so utilizing his impulse and muscle, he punched through and entered through its ceiling. As soon as he landed, Clark fixed on the stationary figure, and his soul blanched--it was Lex! 

Hurrying to his lover's limp body, he gathered Lex in his arms, calling his name, because he could hear the faintest beat of a heart still pulsing, "Lex." His voice was hushed, careful not to offend the frightening weakness he cradled against his chest protectively with avid concern. Glancing about him, Clark pieced it all together; there were machines and lab equipment lining the walls of the room, but there appeared to be no electricity to govern the operating systems any longer. This clandestine laboratory held in its center a cryogenic tube which was wet, not to mention dark like the rest of the technology here, and the glass cover to it was shattered with blood staining the side--this was when Clark knew that Lionel must have imprisoned Lex in a frozen stasis, locking him in a state of suspended animation, sort of like those that housed the cultivated Emilys, but when the power failed, so did life support, and Lex awoke trapped in that damned thing. His hand was still raw with cuts and gashes from breaking out of the clear covering, and his naked body was ice cold, but he seemed too lifeless to even shiver. 

A rolling thunder peeled through the earth and Clark knew it was time to leave--he had found what he had come for, what he had been seeking for half a decade, and now it was up to him to finish his rescue and get the real Lex out of there safe and sound before the place blew to ashes. Clark wrapped his arms tightly around Lex, holding him steadily but gently to him with one arm, and raising the other fist to the sky, he launched them up and out high into the heavens above with flames lapping at their heels. Nevertheless, they were in the clear, having outraced the blast. Clark had accomplished the most important first half of his mission, his primary objective, his most heartfelt goal--Lex had been found alive, and Clark had him back. 

* * *

Clark was arranging blankets and clothes at the side of the bed where Lex lay asleep and recuperating, when he felt a little tug on his cape. 

"What's this?" Very soft whisper that might not even have been audible if it weren't for his superhearing. 

He turned with a smile spreading the width of his face as he saw the familiar figure in his bed staring up at him with a tired and content expression. Kneeling down at the side of the bed, Clark caressed Lex's cheek and gazed excitedly into the pale blue-gray eyes that stared lazily back at him. "I guess I must look pretty silly like this to you." He laughed in spite of himself, thinking of all that Lex had missed, and of all that he had missed Lex, but rather than dwell on the past, Clark anchored himself in the present where Lex was attempting in his dawn to concentrate his sight. 

"No, actually, you don't. That's what's so bizarre about it." 

He smiled in amusement at the remark. "Well, I still want to change. I'll be right back." Clark stood, parting easier knowing that when he said he would be right back, he meant it, and in five seconds time, he was standing at the foot of the bed having shed all his attire, and he crawled up the empty half of the bed, sliding under the sheets to mold his body behind Lex's. "Better?" 

Mustering all his energy, Lex twisted on his side and rolled to face Clark, burrowing into his welcoming embrace. "Much." The word was muffled in the bulky valley of Clark's chest, but he heard it ring like crystal. 

Feeling Lex's presence ten fold that of his former absence, Clark hugged Lex firmly to him, his arms maintaining on iron grasp on the warmed body that pressed into his flesh. He eased his grip a little, minding Lex's fragile condition, the frailty plainly written upon his every movement as well as his lack thereof. Lex was more than pleased just to be held and comforted in the sanctuary of his beloved's home and care. Trembling fingers entangled themselves in Clark's wavy hair and the other set fluttered delicately over the plains of his bare back. Clark brushed his face against the skin of Lex's shoulder and neck and the side of his face, stroking him affectionately with each nuance of physical contact. The intimacy enveloped them in all the pure tenderness of a lover's homecoming reunion. 

They lay entwined as one, a flowing circle once again, rather than one broken link acting as half of infinity that was meant to be whole. 

For all his suffering and his questing, for all his angst and loneliness, for all his trials and hardships, Clark breathed in the air of relief and the presence of love, knowing that the nightmare had come to pass, and happiness had finally come to follow. 

* * *

When his eyes cracked open, before he could even recognize the emptiness in the bed around him, Clark saw Lex sitting in the chair by the side of the bed. He was wearing a pair of Clark's cotton pajama bottoms, and in his hand and his lap were stacks of newspapers and file folders. Ambivalence wrought his expression with the onset of misery being overridden by tarnished delight. Lex wanted to be happy, and knew he was lucky, but this revelation was most upsetting and grim. Clark propped himself up on one arm, sitting more seriously upright, regarding Lex with regret that he had not told him as soon as possible. 

"I... I read them," he said timidly, his tone still ripe with shock. "I read all of them." 

"Lex..." Clark wanted to explain his own actions, wanted to ease his lover's sorrow, but he could find no words to begin. 

"It's all right, Clark. I'll be fine. I just..." Lex was at his own loss, obviously surprised by how much time had discounted him, but quietly grateful that he had not been forgotten or abandoned where it mattered most. The events that had occurred in his induced slumber penetrated the core of his being, but what redeemed all that had been lost, all that this wrong had cost him, was his salvation and his savior--Clark was everything to him, then and especially now. 

Silence stretched between them, as Clark allowed Lex some latitude to absorb all the information and spend all the subsequent emotion. 

"I dreamt about you. I dreamed about you all that time." Lex's tone was nearly nostalgic, as if he were reminiscing fondly, utterly unaware of Clark's own dreams of him during the extended period of his vanishing. 

Clark sunk off the edge of the bed to settle on his knees in front of Lex as he sat in the cushioned chair. His eyes welled as he stared sadly and lovingly at Lex, amazed by his collected composure, though he knew inside Lex was stricken with an onslaught of turmoil. "What's the last thing you remember?" 

"Having a glass of brandy in Lionel's office... which in hindsight, it's evident must've been drugged." A profound disappointment in that admission. He shook the distasteful notions from his head, and chose to peer ahead. "So what happens now? What are we going to do?" 

"Well, you--you should keep a low profile... in fact, you should stay off the radar all together. He doesn't know you exist; he still believes that he is Lex Luthor, and that gives us an advantage. I'd feel better if you just stayed here with me, plus I could use your help in trying to stop your clone from taking over the world as we know it, and we can work on exposing him and restoring you to your life. Meanwhile, I'm going to do what I've been doing, with one important exception--I'm going to be with you, instead of separate and scouring the planet for you." Clark grinned at the long-term implications, thrilled to no longer be alone in this world or his war on this Evil substitute, but most of all, feeling complete and vindicated that his beloved Lex had been returned to him. 

Lex flipped through the piles he had in front of him, skimming pictures of Clark disguised as Superman and headlines trumpeting his heroic deeds as well as his constant search for truth and justice, to use Clark's own quoted choice of words from the articles. The meaning struck him. "You did all this for me?" 

Without the tiniest pause, Clark answered naturally and honestly. "Yes." 

Suddenly, doubt and worry weeded their way into his mind. "But how do you know I'm the one? How can we be so sure that I'm the real Lex?" 

Clark cupped Lex's jaw with his palm and ran his thumb along the scar that split Lex's upper lip. "Because I feel it--I love you." 

That identifying characteristic was just one of several things that were absent in the counterfeit clone, which made such a mock pretense of humanity, and somehow without even realizing that, Lex managed to inadvertently demonstrate the difference and his authenticity moreover. "I love you too, Clark." 


End file.
